The love letter (that never got sent out)

Darling,

I still remember the first time you put your head on my shoulder. I am guessing you forgot when was that. I am guessing you forgot why you did that. I am not gonna go on to describe the whole thing, because I am afraid I can’t do justice to the gravity of the whole thing. Words fail me when I try to describe that moment. Simply because, just because.

As I was writing this, somebody outside the window was shouting. Something about meeting up. Something about surprising somebody. And I’m sorry. Because the little things I should have done, I never really took the time. And right now I want to hold you. I guess I can never say this enough, that I’m glad you’re mine.

That right now you’re far away, and I’m here thinking of you. If you remember the first time we held hands. If you remember the first time we kissed. If you remember the first time we hugged. You’ll remember how smitten I was. You are always on my mind. And I hope I’m always on yours.

And I want to erase the time you spend without me, and me without you. Because I really wanted to spend all my waking hours, and all my hours in slumber, with you. Because forever is just a minute to me when I’m with you. Because the seas and lands between us, really, don’t stop me from loving you and me from thinking of you.

I’m missing you.

Love.

I wished I’ve sent this over, and said all those words I never said.

The old him

They seemed like a nice couple. The lady was pleasant looking, and the guy, decent. They were loving too, or so it seemed. They made their way to their seats, a table away from me, avoiding eye contact with anybody. They were in their own world. And their love so strong, at least I thought so.

They had some spaghetti and some fish, hardly anything fancy. But in their simplicity, love was evident. The lady looked into her boyfriend’s eyes, I guessed they weren’t anything more than that ’cause they still look young, and she seemed lost in his soulful eyes. And the guy smiled, as if acknowledging the silent bond they shared. They didn’t say much. But their smiles said thousand of words. And their eyes communicated so much.

It took them a while before they were done with their food. By then I was sipping my liquor and just enjoying the serenity of their relationship. The lady left to the wash room. The guy looked around and noticed me. He gave me a wry shy smile, I reciprocated. It was as if we knew each other. We exchanged brief words. By the time I called for the check, they were gone, hand in hand. I thought to myself, what a wonderful couple, and I guess the waitress agreed because she nodded in agreement when I told her they looked good together.

That was almost a year ago. And when I went back to the same place, much have changed. There was a new partition between the exit and the tables inside. The wine tasted better, and trust me on that because I’m really not a fan of wine, red or white. Even the waitress who served me a year ago wasn’t there any more.

And it seems, sad or otherwise, the couple has broken up. “I guessed she moved on, and I’m still stuck in this same time zone,” he told me over a glass of wine, ironically at the same place we first met. “Maybe it was good for us.” I beg to differ, silently, but who am I to disagree. The new waitress poured our wine, oblivious of the significance of these two men sitting here reminiscing the past and wondering the future that wasn’t to be.

By the time we parted, I felt all his emotions as if they were all my own. And I wonder if I will see him again. The old him.

Hello Goodbye

“Hey, how are you doing now?” For a moment I was stunned. I could not remember who he was, or where I’ve met him. I tried to recall a name. Blank. I gave a weak smile. Still thinking. “So how’s your girlfriend?” I looked at him intently. Smiled again. And mumbled something weak.

After a while I recalled who he was, and remembered part of his name. I apologised. Said our goodbyes. And then replayed the whole scene in my head. And it was very typical of me to forget people or events in my life. Sometimes I remembered the correct things for the wrong reasons. Sometimes I remember the wrong things. Sometimes I don’t bother remembering.

Which brings me this – I ought to remember people and events which have become part of my life. Because they define who I am. People I met, things I did, and stuffs I said, all defined points in my life. And I don’t want to forget them. But I wonder, how many more things will I forget before I make conscious efforts to remember them.

And in a weird way, I want people to remember me too. I want to touch their lives. I hope someday somebody comes up to me and say he or she remembered me for the good things I did. Until then, this is my conscious effort to create happy memories for people around me, and myself.